


Consonance

by thegirlwiththemouseyhair



Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwiththemouseyhair/pseuds/thegirlwiththemouseyhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An argument between Curt and Arthur gets a surprisingly positive conclusion. (Inspired by the domesticity/fluff meme that went around Tumblr a couple weeks ago, though no one specifically prompted me with the one or two relevant prompts.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consonance

They’d been arguing about the same old thing – Curt’s hours, Arthur’s inability to keep up with him, thanks to his ( _stupid, middle class_ ) job and paying the bills and shit like that. Curt had been getting rather bored of wounding Arthur, really. It was too easy, or maybe he was losing his edge. He wasn’t sure.

He tried to turn away only for Arthur to seize his hand, pull him close again, and ask him _why_ he stayed. Curt was surprised he could just come out with it like that: his face tightened when he did, shoulders tensing, as if he were inviting Curt to punch him or something, because _Jesus Christ, he’s insecure._ Curt had been with enough fucked up people to recognize that level of need, and worse.

“I mean it,” Arthur said, dropping Curt’s hand just as suddenly and swallowing his words, now. _Courage failing him._ “ _Why?_ ”

He sounded so defeated. Curt stifled a sigh, his anger gone cold. He wondered if he should apologize – though he hated how Arthur still didn’t trust him, after all this time. He looked hard at Arthur, then down, and fumbled in his pocket for his cigarettes.

“Because I fucking _love_ you…”

Stunned silence from Arthur. Curt was a little surprised at himself, too: they never talked about those kinds of things. It was too weird. But it was true, and for all the shit Curt had done in his life, he tried to be honest, at least.

“I–” And that was all Arthur could manage. He stood open-mouthed, looking just like the shy, clueless kid he’d been ten years ago. The look warmed Curt, though he could no longer hold back his sigh of frustration.

“Come here,” he said.

They ended that argument lying on the couch and necking like teenagers – a little rougher and heavier than teenagers, maybe, with more teeth and harder touches, but when Arthur pulled away to breathe, he looked damn sappy.

“I just couldn’t believe...” His voice trailed off. He freed one of his hands from Curt’s hair to rub his own neck, which was almost as red as his face. Curt grinned down at him, their fight almost forgotten.

“That anyone would – stay with you?”  

But Curt could ask the same question about himself. He _had_ , many times. It was easier to explain when he’d been famous and had, or could have had, money coming in all the time, but now, when he was a has-been who’d pissed it all away? ( _You’re not a has-been_ , Arthur would say. Maybe it was stupid, but it reassured him, knowing that Arthur still thought he could write decent music and get his shit together again – and more, that he was worth putting up with as a person.)

Arthur tried to nod.

“Don’t worry about it,” Curt said, running his fingers along Arthur’s shoulder. Then he bit his lip, annoyed that he’d mentioned _love_ first, though Arthur’s feelings were pretty obvious. They always had been. He grinned instead.

“You adore me, of course,” he teased.

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed. Then he pulled Curt closer for another kiss – a good turn of events for the morning.


End file.
